Again
by theicecreambattle
Summary: OQ Week, Prompt#1: Masquerade Ball. Regina and Robin are not fans of elaborate parties, but they happen to find themselves attending the same Masquerade Ball. Set shortly after 3x03 - Canon Divergence. Brief mentions of Stable Queen.


**Hi there.. I entered this as a response to the prompt - Masquerade Ball for OQ Week 2. The writing style is a bit different than what I am used to, but hope you liked it. It is set shortly after 3x03 - canon divergence. Brief mentions of Stable Queen.**

She doesn't attend balls.  
She doesn't want to.  
But she has to.  
Since she was "becoming of age", whatever that may mean.  
People are dull.  
She pretends she's interested.  
Ignoring the heat of her mother's stare.  
When all she could think about is a certain stable boy.  
Who leaves flowers at her saddle and hides behind the door.  
As she twirls the flower, smiling to herself.

He doesn't attend balls.  
He doesn't want to.  
But he has to.  
Since he was the oldest son of Lord Locksley.  
Seen one and you have seen them all, he thinks.  
Pretentious people who pretends to like each other.  
Women who dress provocatively for attention.  
Men who pretend they don't notice but failing miserably.  
Rich people flaunting their riches while there are people starving for their next meal.  
He much prefer the company of horses.  
Riding into the woods for target practice.  
Where he could be free.

She doesn't attend balls but the queen has to.  
And so she does, surely but grudgingly, she does.  
At least her body does.  
Her heart?  
Is somewhere else entirely.  
Back to firefly hill.  
Back to her dreams that were lost but not forgotten.  
She smiles and extends her hand to noble men to kiss.  
As she shudders at their leering glances.  
No, not glances. Stares.  
As her husband pays no mind to her.  
She knows, she is to be seen and not heard.  
But sometimes, she wonders…  
Perhaps she was not seen either.

He have no place being near that ball.  
Not when he has his face graced the trees and villages with a price on his head.  
No, he has no place being near to the palace.  
Still, how can one ignore the piles of riches hidden behind those four walls?  
He knows it is risky.  
No, not just risky. Stupid.  
It won't be the first time Little John call him an idiot.  
And well, he likes to think if he's an idiot, he's a brilliant idiot.  
But it's not like anyone would recognize him.  
After all, he is going to wear a mask.

She hates balls.  
She hates the way they make her feel more alone, even in a crowded room.  
Hates the way people openly judges her with their condescending looks.  
Hates the way people compares her to the previous monarch.  
Hates the way she could hardly breathe in the corset.  
Hates the way her feet hurt after hours of dancing with nameless masked faces.  
Why does she even bother coming to this ball?  
Why couldn't she have faked an illness like she always did?  
Oh yes, she needed a distraction.  
She doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts.  
Not when they lead to a certain tavern.  
Where a certain man with a certain tattoo was.

He hates balls.  
He hates the way the nobles treats their servants, like they are worth nothing.  
Hates the way people behave when they are drunk.  
Hates the way their laughter is forced.  
Hates the way this "borrowed" garb makes it seem like he is part of the party.  
Hates the way this mask is itching into his skin.  
But right now, he hates the way it is obscuring his view of this particular woman not 20 paces from him.  
It is obvious from her clothing that she is royalty, or a highly ranked noble at the least.  
It is also painfully obvious that whoever she was, she hates this ball just as much as he does.  
He shouldn't be distracted from his purpose, he knows that.  
But one dance wouldn't hurt now, would it?

"Would milady fancy a dance?"  
Regina glances up at the outstretched hand.  
_It's your majesty to you_, she almost replied.  
She bit her tongue as she remembers that her identity is hidden behind the mask.  
This could be interesting, she thinks to herself as he leads her to the floor, noting the mischievous grin on his face.

"What, may I ask, does my lord find so amusing?"  
Oh heavens, he was not prepared for that voice.  
He had expected something much softer and high pitched (as they usually were with nobles).  
But hers was husky, low and velvety.  
Making him feel things that were inappropriate when one does not know the other's name.  
He could feel his throat closing up.  
He shakes his head and lets out a light laugh as they swayed to the music.

"Oh, nothing much…"  
His voice, or rather his accent, pierces through the mundane.  
Her ears perk with interest.  
He must not be from this side of the forest then.  
It makes her wonder who this man is, and why he smells of trees – oak, she thinks.  
"Just the thought of why a beautiful lady could not hide her disdain, even with a mask."  
Why, the nerve of—- Her lips pursed into a scowl (or was it a concealed smile?) as he continues.  
"Am I wrong in assuming that?"

He could not help staring at her upper lip, at the small but visible scar that does not diminish but accentuates her beauty.  
It was just moments after meeting her, but already, he is intrigued.  
Intrigued by her beauty.  
Intrigued by her voice.  
But above all, intrigued by the way she composes herself.  
She may be noble, perhaps even royal, but he could sense something far more interesting beyond the surface.  
A feisty spark.  
One that he is more determined than ever to unravel.

"Assume what you must. A lady never tells." she quips.  
He smirks at that.  
She is certainly not making this easy to know her.  
Which only serves to fuel his fascination of her.

"Come now, milady. Surely, there must be something that triggered such a response."  
Her lips, still pursed, and he is certain now that it is of amusement, as her eyes glinting with mischief.  
"You seem to think you have some idea…"  
"Hmmm… perhaps milady is not satisfied of the delicacies at the table?"  
She scoffs at that.  
"Not the food then… I should hope not, the cook would not be pleased if their hard work brings a frown to your lovely face."  
She rolls her eyes in response.  
"If you think flattery will get you your answer, you are badly mistaken."  
He chuckled. "My apologies, milady… I speak only of the truth. I may be a thief, but never a liar."

She raise her eyebrows in amusement. "_Thief?_"  
He curses himself inwardly. A few words from her and already he is giving all his secrets away.

"What business, may I ask, has a thief in a masquerade ball?" She questions him with a smile tugging at her lips.  
He has no idea what possesses him with such boldness as he replies, "Stealing the attention of a captivating lady."

It took everything she had to stop herself from trembling at the sincerity behind his words, instantly grateful for the mask that is now hiding the tinge of pink coloring the apples of her cheeks.

She finds herself staring at his lips before glancing up to reach his eyes. Eyes so blue, you would want to dive into their depths. There is something in the way he look at her, that made her want to open herself to him.

She took in a breath before she whispers in a voice so soft he almost missed it, "Can't steal something that's been given to you."

It was only a brief moment before everything come crashing down.  
Literally.

A man, obviously having enjoyed his fair share of free wine, have his foot one in front of the other and crashes into them.

He immediately moves to pull her out of the way, which thankfully, he succeeded. His sleeve, however, had the misfortune of being dragged by the drunkard, which tore straight through, revealing his forearm.

She gasps, her hand flew to her mouth in shock.  
It couldn't be.

She stands paralyzed. Until his voice breaks through the commotion.

"Milady?"  
His voice dripped with concern as he reaches for her.

There it is.  
_The lion tattoo._  
He couldn't be.  
Not when she has left the tavern.

Why is he here?  
How did he find her?  
So many questions flowing through her mind.  
She did what she does best. And ran.  
Her vision blurred as her eyes brims with tears.  
Leaving him.  
Again.

**END.**

**I'm so sorry to leave it like that... but yeah.. I had to. I hurt myself writing this though.. if it makes you feel better.. :P**

**Thank you for reading this and please please please let me know what you think of it. I loveeeeee reviews! Also, there are a lot of great writers posting their take on this prompt, go check them out on Tumblr! :D**


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